


Seven Years

by xwynn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, I cant stop writing this mushy fluffy crap and its ruining my life, M/M, they're like almost 30 yrs old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9733547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xwynn/pseuds/xwynn
Summary: Bokuto has a secret that's seven years too late.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!!! I hope it was enjoyable for you all!!! I tried posting this yesterday but AO3 was having some difficulties so it had to wait until today. 
> 
> I actually hecked up and instead of writing all the things that actually have deadlines I wrote this, and I'm honestly disgusted with myself with how cheesy it is. Please take this and stop me from writing another cheesy thing, I'm begging you.

Bokuto swears that there is something definitely _up_ about sci-fi movies. Not a bad something, but it whooshes around in his stomach, making it twist and knot and he wants the feeling gone. It’s makes him wiggle in his spot on the couch like he’s got a bad case of the ants in the pants and for all he knows, maybe he does. He’s happy, for sure, he’s happy because Kuroo is there, sitting on his feet like he always does and looks damn good in their home: the lights from the TV are soft on his form, contrasting the nightfall shadows, it highlights his angled nose and dyes his already dark hair with shades of pink and red.

His hands are clammy and he touches his fingers to the palms before wiping them on his tshirt with a look of mild disgust. It’s not a bad feeling he has, he knows this for a fact, but he’s positive his stomach just folded in on itself, and _that_ is definitely not good. It’s when he wiggles his toes, where they’re wedged under Kuroo’s ass does he realize just what in the hell is _up_.

“What are you smiling for?” Kuroo asks, looking at him now. His eyes are squinted because of how dark it is, but the TV flashes onto his face for a quick second and all Bokuto can see is pure joy.

“I’m not smiling,” Bokuto says, but he knows it’s a lie as soon as he says it because his cheeks _burn_ , like he’s been smiling all this time, and - _holy hell_ \- he has been.

Kuroo is smiling too now, it grows slowly, creeping up on his face like the morning’s sunrise. “Yes you are,” he singsongs.

He’s giggling - _giggling_ of all things - like a fucking school girl, and he throws his head back on the armrest of the couch, slaps his hands over his face as a cover, and mumbles out around a laugh, “I am definitely not smiling.”

“You are clearly smiling you goober,” Kuroo’s laughing too now. Bokuto’s thinks they’ve caught some weird new disease. Where the symptoms include: spontaneous smiling, random outbursts of laughing, and in severe cases - like himself - not being able to look your boyfriend in the eye. “C’mon Kou, spill the beans,” Kuroo says, his hands are on Bokuto’s knees now and he’s shaking them, as if he could shake an answer right out of him.

“I’m not telling.” His cheeks ache now, and he’s one hundred percent positive that if you looked up ‘face splitting grin’ in the dictionary it would be a picture of him at that exact moment.

Bokuto can feel Kuroo crawl up his body, laying on top of him til they’re face to face, the only thing blocking them from looking at each other is the permanent fixture of his hands on his own face.

“I can’t believe you’re really gonna leave me hanging like this,” Kuroo says to his hands. Bokuto can feel him tug at his wrists and he presses his fingers to his face in resistance. “It can’t be _that_ bad can it?”

Bokuto wants to _scream_. His heart is in his stomach, or maybe his stomach is at maximum whoosh, maybe his whole entire organ system has exploded, or - or _something_. “It really is that bad,” he mutters into his hands, “It is so so bad.”

“Like on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”

“Thirteen.”

Kuroo is laughing so hard at the admission that Bokuto can barely make out the “oh my god” he manages to choke out. It’s a pretty opportune time to sneak a peek at the man above him, Bokuto thinks, but _dear god_ was he wrong,; because Kuroo’s face is bright and grinning, beaming that lopsided grin he does when he just can’t help himself. Where his eyes crinkle at the ends, and his teeth show, and his nose scrunches up ever so slightly; and Bokuto doesn’t know what the fuck his organs are doing, but it is so goddamn painful that all he can do is let out the weakest of groans as he slides his body even further across the armrest and off the couch.

Kuroo slides down his body with the movement, his chin coming to a rest on Bokuto’s chest, nothing but amusement in his voice when he asks, “What now?”

Bokuto huffs out a breath, his hands haven’t left his face for a single moment, and presses his fingers even harder to his skin, desperately trying to hide that stupid smile that just won’t go away. “You promise you won’t laugh?”

“I will not make a single sound,” Kuroo promises.

“Okay?” Bokuto breathes out the question to himself, and he hears Kuroo echo the word. He takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs, lets it go all in one breath, and says, “I like you so much, like a whole lot, and I am physically dying.”

There’s one whole second of silence til Bokuto tentatively moves his hands away from his face and chances a look at Kuroo, his hand flying back up immediately at the sight.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

Kuroo’s lips are pressed so thin, mouth twisted off to the side, that he can barely manage an, “I’m not!” without completely losing it.

“You’re smiling,” Bokuto accuses.

Kuroo takes a deep breath, a sad attempt to smother the bubbles of laughter that are threatening to escape. “You didn’t say I couldn’t smile.”

Another pained groan makes its way out, and Bokuto’s face is so flushed and red he doesn’t think he’ll ever return to his normal state. “I can hear you laughing you know,” if Kuroo wasn’t laying on top of him, Bokuto would have kicked him. Off the couch, preferably.

“We’re already dating,” Kuroo can barely talk he’s laughing so hard, “for years!”

“I knoooooow,” he says dragging the word out like it hurts.

“I can not believe I am being confessed to seven years into a relationship,” Bokuto interjects with a ‘shut up’ but it doesn’t look like Kuroo wants to let this one go anytime soon. “And you’re _embarrassed_? Gotta admit it, that’s my favorite part.”

“I take it back, I don’t like you at all. You’re the worst.”

Kuroo wiggles back up, like a giggling little snake on a mission, til he’s right in Bokuto’s face, all smug smiles. “Seven years, and you _‘like’_ me? Honestly Kou, I’m a little insulted.”

Bokuto lets his head fall back against the armrest, muttering “when will you stop?” under his breath, Kuroo ignoring his obvious suffering all the while.

“I mean, you’d think after seven fucking years, someone would be, oh I don’t know, in love? Is that what you meant? Don’t tell me you were too embarrassed to tell me you love me? I won’t judge you, ya know, I’m pretty irresistible.”

“That’s it!” And Bokuto is slapping a hand over his mouth because _obviously_ Kuroo does not know how to shut up on his own. “What can I do to make you drop this?”

Kuroo pries the hand off his face, fixing Bokuto with a look that speaks trouble.

“Say it,” Kuroo demands, like he’s got Bokuto right where he wants him.

“Say what?"

“Tell me you love me and I won’t mention any of this.”

Bokuto is trying his best to glare at him but he must be doing an awful job because the smile that was already on Kuroo’s face only grows bigger. He slaps a hand over his lips again, but he can feel the upward tilt of his lips in that signature grin of his, and if that wasn’t already enough, Kuroo had taken to wiggling his eyebrows. And it is both the worst and the cutest thing Bokuto has ever witnessed in his life.

 _I’m a goner_ , Bokuto thinks. He has died and gone to heaven because of this man, he’s been resurrected and only to die again because of him and he’ll do it a thousand times over. It’s something he knows for a fact, something that is indisputable, and it grinds his weak, fragile heart into a pulp. A small little pulp because the world’s biggest idiot is lying on top of him with a smile that has reached his eyes, a pulp because it’s been seven goddamn years and he’s still not over it.

And he never will be.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he moves the hand from Kuroo’s mouth to his cheek, cupping it gently, thumb stroking in small circles. There is nothing special about the way Kuroo looks in that moment, there’s a day old beard on his jaw, his age has long since started to show, and he’s wearing that same old ratty tshirt from college, and yet - Bokuto is positively melting at the sight. “Kuroo Tetsurou, I am positively and absolutely head over heels and disgustingly in love with you.”

“Disgustingly?” Kuroo asks, his own personal way of trying to keep cool.

“Disgustingly.” He affirms, and Kuroo is nuzzling his cheek into his hand at the word.

The happiest little sound filters out of him, bubbling over til it fills the entire room. Its contagious and Bokuto can’t stop himself from laughing too. “Lucky for you,” he says, scooching closer and closer, their eyes crossing, “I too am positively and absolutely head over heels and disgustingly in love with you.”

They’re giggling way too much to kiss properly, like a couple still stuck in their honeymoon phase, and maybe they are. Maybe they never learned how not to be in the honeymoon phase, still caught up in the whirlwind of crushes turned first dates and tentative kisses on their parent’s doorstep.

It’s been seven years, still stuck in their honeymoon phase, and Kuroo is smiling way too much when he tries to kiss him, his lips instead finding the bridge of Bokuto’s nose and it only makes them laugh even more. He is content and pleased and thrumming like he’s on cloud nine itself with Kuroo peppering kisses all over his face, their laughter never coming to an end.

 _“Seven years?”_ He says, kissing Bokuto on the cheek and _snorting._

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” And Bokuto is squealing, pushing his face away but it’s been long seven years and he couldn’t be any happier if he tried.


End file.
